


all in vein

by haleofStilesheart



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkward Boners, Awkwardness, Because of Reasons, Doctor Castiel, Doctor Kink, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Medical Patient Dean, Stitches, Tattoo Kink, Tattooed Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 19:23:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11904555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofStilesheart/pseuds/haleofStilesheart
Summary: Dean accidentally cuts his hand while trying to be a good samaritan. Fortunately, his doctor's hot enough to make him forget all about it (and pop an awkward boner).





	all in vein

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charlesdk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlesdk/gifts).



> For the prompt: Bamf tattooed doctor Cas & shy nerdy cute patient Dean (bamf cas is my undoing

Dean may or may not have had a doctor kink.

He blamed it on all of those hours he had spent binge watching Dr. Sexy. And the few times he had watched Grey's Anatomy out of curiosity.

And House M.D. Even Scrubs once or twice.

Okay, so he definitely had a doctor kink. But it wasn't his fault. Really!

How could anyone not find those white lab coats and ties and scrubs not ridiculously hot? No one that's who.

So when Doctor Novak entered the exam room with his sex hair and the dark stubble peppering his jaw, in his pristine white coat, it was no surprise that Dean's brain promptly went offline. Especially when the doctor turned his unimaginably blue eyes on him.

He ended up just gaping at Doctor Novak as he read off the clipboard in his hands, reiterating the information about Dean's injury. His voice was low and intriguingly gravelly as he read off the description of the injury, Dean focusing on just the sound of his voice instead of his actual words.

He was too busy running his eyes over the bow of Doctor Novak's plush pink lips as he spoke, watching the way he formed his words. His lips were chapped, Dean noted, only slightly but enough to be noticeable.

His hair, thoroughly disheveled as though he had just rolled out of bed and thrown on a lab coat, looked extremely soft, almost fluffy. It curled behind his ears.

His eyes, narrowed as he squinted down at the clipboard, were a startlingly clear blue, like a cloudless spring morning. They were so beautiful that Dean briefly wondered if Doctor Novak was wearing colored contacts.

His eyes strayed further down the doctor's body in a purely curious manner, idly wondering what the insanely good-looking doctor wore under his lab coat. It turned out that he was wearing a white button up and black slacks. His tie, a deep blue one a few shades lighter than navy, was backwards.

"Mr. Winchester?  _ Mr. Winchester?" _ A voice called, but Dean was too busy admiring the definition in his doctor's thighs through the fabric of his slacks. "Did he sustain injuries that affected his hearing?"

A second later something jabbed him in ribs, hard enough to drag a rough front from him. He whipped his head to the side to glare at his giant of a brother, snapping, "The hell, Sam?!"

"You were spaced out, dude," Sam informed him, rolling his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest. Dean had a mind to reach up and yank his too long hair.

The only thing that stopped him was the sudden realization of where exactly he was, the day's events running through his head.

He had been driving in to work, Bobby calling him in early to help out with restoring an old '69 Mustang, when he had noticed a car pulled over on the side of the road. A woman had been trying to use a jack, a lug wrench lying on the pavement beside her.

Figuring he could help out with the easy task of changing a tire and get his good deed for the day over and done with, he had pulled over. Flashing a charming grin, he had explained that he was a mechanic and offered to help out.

It had been going perfectly fine until he somehow managed to cut his right hand open on the car jack. The woman he had been helping had nearly fainted at the sight of blood so Dean had to calm her down while wrapping a dirty rag around his hand.

He finished up with changing the tire much to the woman's delight, earning him a kiss on the cheek before she flounced back into her car and drove off. With a resigned sigh, he had called Bobby and explained that he had to run to the hospital for his hand.

He managed to drive one handed to the closest urgent care that was conveniently a few blocks away from the law firm where Sam was working. In the waiting room, crammed between an old lady who hacking up a lung and a shaggy haired teenager who had a weird looking rash on his arm, he had texted his brother and asked him to come over to the urgent care.

Sam walked in right as the receptionist called Dean's name and handed him off to a nurse with dark hair and horrible people skills. She had muttered under her breath about him being an idiot as she poked and prodded at the cut on his hand, ignoring his grunts and groans.

When she had left the room after jotting something down on a clipboard, announcing that Doctor Novak would be in soon, Dean and Sam had exchanged shared looks of incredulity. Then Doctor Novak had arrived, putting McDreamy to shame.

"Oh. Uh, sorry," Dean apologized, scratching the back of his neck as his cheeks heated before holding out his hand to shake Doctor Novak's. His palm was a bit rough, slightly callused but not as much as Dean's own hand. "Dean Winchester. Uh, you already knew that."

"Doctor Castiel Novak," the gorgeous doctor introduced himself, smiling brightly enough to take Dean's breath away. Still smiling, he turned to the side and started shrugging out of his lab coat, nearly making Dean swallow his tongue.

He coughed a few times, curling his left hand into a fist to bang against his chest. He pointedly ignored the look Sam gave him, recognizing it as the one he used whenever he noticed that Dean had the hots for someone.

Swallowing heavily once the coughing fit passed, he watched with wide eyes as Doctor Novak unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, the action revealing tattoos covering his forearms. If Dean's mouth hadn't gone dry at the sight, he would have started drooling.

On the inside of one forearm, a statuesque angel robed in white stood, its large wings spread as it raised its hands skyward. A cluster of brightly colored flowers served as the angel's backdrop, making the monochrome figure stand out in stark contrast.

The other forearm bore a scattering of bees, striped and furry as they buzzed around on the lightly haired skin. A banner was stretched across the inner forearm, running perpendicular to the veins in his arm. Dean couldn't make out what was written on the banner.

And if Dean had a doctor kink the size of Kansas itself, which he definitely did, then his tattoo kink was the size of Texas.

He wasn't proud of it, especially since his little brother was in the room, but he was suddenly sporting a semi. Just at the sight of some tattoos. So much for him being a cool, suave Lothario.

Doctor Novak crossed to the sink and washed his hands before taking a seat on the wheeled chair by the counter and moving over to sit directly in front of Dean. He caught of whiff of some sort of cologne as Doctor Novak said, "You're definitely going to need some stitches but there won't be much scarring and you'll have full function of your hand."

"Good, that's the hand I use to jerk off," Dean hummed in response. He regretted the words the second they left his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut and wincing as Sam groaned aloud.

"Jesus, Dean," Sam complained in a whine, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I'm gonna go wait in the car."

Doctor Novak chuckled as the door shut behind Sam, smiling as he claimed, "Your boyfriend seems very nice."

"God, no! Eww," Dean immediately balked, sticking his tongue out. At Doctor Novak's confused expression, tilting his head to the side, Dean rushed to explain, "Sam's not my boyfriend. He's my brother. I don't have a boyfriend. Not because I'm straight or anything... I'm bi!—" he groaned and facepalmed "—Why can't I shut up?"

"Pain has a way of inhibiting our brain to mouth filters," Doctor Novak announced as he spread some numbing gel over the cut on Dean's hand. "And that is, of course, the medical term."

"I'm sure," Dean laughed, relaxing a bit as the edge of pain lessened. He followed the gentle path of Doctor Novak's thumb as he rubbed in the gel. "Y'know, you're a lot gentler than your nurse."

"Yes, I suppose Meg's bedside manner could use some improvement," the doctor conceded as he finished applying the gel. He leaned in closer and lowered his voice to a whisper, "But everyone here is too afraid to tell her."

Dean chuckled, conceding the fact that Meg was, in fact, a little bit scary, as Doctor Novak picked up forceps and some surgical thread. He winced as he turned back to Dean, explaining, "This part won't be too much fun but it won't hurt."

"This when you tell me to close my eyes and think of England?" Dean quipped as he took a few deep breaths. It wasn't the first time he had gotten stitches but it was never a pretty sight.

He may have had a pretty strong stomach but the sight of flesh literally getting sewn back together? That was enough to make him lose his lunch.

"If it helps," Doctor Novak intoned as he started the sutures.

Dean tipped his head back, squeezed his eyes shut, and hummed "the Memory Remains". He reopened his eyes when he heard Doctor Novak chuckle under his breath. He quirked a brow at the doctor, wondering what was so funny about stitches.

"Metallica?" Doctor Novak asked, his lips curling up at the corner. "Interesting choice. Though I would've picked Enter Sandman."

"It calms me down," Dean admitted with a one-shouldered shrug. He offered a smile as he inquired, "So, you like Metallica, doc? Bit of a badass?"

"My brothers would beg to differ but I like to think so," Doctor Novak answered easily, continuing the stitching. "I have the tattoos and the motorcycle to prove it."

"Whoa, you ride a motorcycle?" Dean whistled, impressed. A motorcycle explained the windblown hair, though he was sure a doctor would wear a helmet. "What kind?"

"Harley-Davidson. Softail Slim S," Doctor Novak relayed as he finished the stitches. Setting down his forceps, he beamed over at Dean before suggesting, "Maybe I could take you for a ride sometime, if I'm not being too forward."

"Really?" Dean asked a little breathlessly, feeling his face heat up again. When Doctor Novak nodded, he blurted, "Hell yeah!"

Laughing softly, Doctor Novak stood and quickly washed his hands before grabbing something out of his lab coat pocket. He scribbled something on the business card he had pulled out before handing it over to Dean.

"The receptionist will give you instructions for your hand," he explained as Dean stood, turning over the business card in his hand to look at Doctor Novak's cell phone number. "And you can call me whenever you're up for a ride."

Tucking the business card into his pocket, Dean smiled and returned, "Sure thing, Cas."

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr [here](http://hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com/) maybe send me a prompt or two!


End file.
